Beige glanced at Ji Anning and continued, "He would hold his puppy and talk to it for a long ti, standing on the balcony lost in thought—it was the thing he did most often."
Yes, he was lonely, he liked standing on the balcony, motionless for hours, and it was unknown what he was watching.
He never opened up to anyone, never laid his feelings bare for others to see, including her.
Ji Anning turned to look at Beige—a beautiful mixed-race face, delicate and efficient. Since the founding of Beautiful City... it had been about four or five years, and she had been by Ji Chicheng’s side for as long.
aning, the real ti she spent and interacted with him was even more than hers.
So, how had he been these past two years, what was he doing every day, was he eating on ti, was he sleeping on ti...
Suppressing the impulse to ask these questions, she asked with a cold face, "Since you understand him so well, haven’t you fallen for him?"
"..." Beige was startled for a mont, a trace of guilt flashed through her eyes, but she did not evade and continued to look at Ji Anning, "Yes, the boss is an excellent person. I think anyone who has co into contact with him, or spent ti with him, would find it hard not to like him. But my liking is rely an appreciation for his talent and appearance, pity for his loneliness and the arrogance he does not know how to express."
Ji Anning gave a cold laugh, "Then you just continue liking him. Maybe over ti, he might begin to like you as well."
Having said this, the elevator just arrived on the first floor, the doors opened, and without looking at Beige’s face, she walked out of the elevator decisively, holding Fenfen.
’But my liking, is rely for his talent and appearance, pity for his loneliness and the arrogance he doesn’t know how to express.’
Envy, gratitude.
Envious of how Beige could so openly and candidly admire and like him.
Grateful that she understood and felt pity for the man she loved most, her Uncle Chicheng.
’He would hold his puppy and talk to it for a long ti, standing on the balcony lost in thought—it was the thing he did most often...’
It felt as if her heart was bleeding, yet she could only endure the pain and keep moving forward.
’Daddy.’
Ji Chicheng looked at the elevator Ji Anning and the others had taken, his ears still echoing with Fenfen’s repeated ’Daddy’.
His steps unable to move forward, yet unable to retreat either.
"How old are you this year." Charles eyed Ji Chicheng’s face for a long ti before finally asking.
His gaze still firmly locked onto Ji Chicheng’s face, his eyes slightly narrowed.
Suspiciously probing sothing.
"I don’t think you need to know," Ji Chicheng turned his head and coldly retorted Charles, then lifted his foot to return to the old man’s sickroom.
He had only walked a few steps when Charles’s voice again rose behind him, "Is your mother... Acai?"
Ji Chicheng’s footsteps paused, his tall and straight figure stiffening montarily.
He clenched his fists tightly, his voice cold and hard as he replied, "No."
He continued walking.
"Not really...." Charles watched Ji Chicheng’s proud silhouette, muttering to himself, "She’s very much like my Acai."
...
Ji Anning stepped out of the outpatient clinic with Fenfen, not seeing her car, but Charles’s stretch Lincoln was at the doorway.
The driver standing by the car door, upon seeing her, politely opened the door for her.
She boarded the car holding Fenfen, who, probably exhausted from the fuss, was now quietly nestled in her arms, a tiny hand tightly holding two candies.
She smiled and asked, "Fenfen got so candy, huh?"
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